Time
by MareanaDiNozzo
Summary: Tony and Ziva have a long overdue conversation. OOC, Tiva, oneshot.


**Wow, its been a long time since I've written anything. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned anything, would I have been studying for a seven page gym final?**

**Spoiler for Ships in the Night, season eight of NCIS. **

**I know it's OOC, and it's all crazy and weird and not very good, but that's okay. I just needed to get it out before my brain imploded on itself.**

Her head was bowed over the sink, her hands gripping the granite edge of the counter. Her brown eyes trained on the faint reflection of herself in the metallic sink. Those words that man called that woman back there in the club. They stain her mind like wine on a white blouse. And then those faded, haunting memories start again. She closes her eyes to try to rid of them, but they come stronger. Saleem's face. His demonic laughter and his too cruel words. She feels suddenly nauseated. Opening her eyes, she flicks them up to gaze in the mirror. And he's standing there.

He's locked the door to the bathroom. She knows he's not going to let it go - not this time. He's let it go too many times for his own good now.

Ziva doesn't dare look Tony straight in the eye. So she looks in the mirror. His arms are folded and his face is twisted in this disgusted way that almost makes her want to yell at him that she's fine.

But in the reality of it, she's not.

He takes in a sharp breath, "You want to talk about it?"

"No," her words are sharper than she meant for them to be.

Then he fires back, "Do you talk to your little Mr. Miami Heat about this?"

He watches as she clenches her fists and he can practically see the blue veins popping out of her tan skin. "You're jealous?"

He doesn't reply. He poses a new question, "What happened in Africa?"

This time he's gone too far, too fast, too quickly. The anger inside of her is quickly building so she doesn't reply to him. She just watches him from the mirror. He's looking at the floor, not even looking at her. They both somehow know, that this conversation is long overdue. Ziva tightens her grip on the counter and Tony seems to notice this and he unfolds his arms and just stands there, trying to grasp the situation.

"Are you jealous?" she asks again.

"What happened in Africa?" he challenges again, folding his arms more tightly than before.

A risky move is taken. She swivels on her heels to face him. She just searches his face, looking for an answer if he actually is jealous.

Then she just walks out. Slams the door on him and runs to the elevator. She doesn't expect him to follow her, and he doesn't. He just stands there, staring at his pathetic reflection in the mirror. He wants to take his fist and shatter the mirror, but he manages to choke down his anger and he leaves the bathroom, slamming the door harder than his partner.

As he stalks to the elevators, he almost swears he heard the mirror crack.

When he gets home, she's there. Sitting on his couch, all nonchalant. He doesn't even want to know how she got in. She probably picked the lock and she's awake, staring at a blank TV, obviously lost in thought. When he opens his door and strides in ready to fall asleep eagle-spread style in his work clothing, on his bed which had freshly washed sheets, his idea of a perfect sleep is interrupted when she stands up and blocks his way.

"Are you jealous?" she questions again.

"Then _what_ happened in Africa?"

Now she's had enough. She just answers his question, "Saleem had no heart. He called me things, did things..." a lump has formed in her throat and her voice stops suddenly Her eyes are closed she is trying to regain her composure and emotionless look while her eyes are brimming with tears.

It is then, and only then he finally grasps what she means. It hits him hard. He feels sick, like throwing up and now can't feel his legs, arms, and it feels like his stomach has literally fallen to the bottom of feet. He makes a beeline for the toilet before he spews the contents of his dinner on his freshly washed floor.

Nonetheless, he makes it to the toilet in plenty of time. She's beyond astonished at his reaction. She follows him.

He's sitting up against the toilet, staring straight ahead of him, "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible.

She sits down beside him, "Don't be," she pauses, "did you mean it in Somalia, that you couldn't live without me?"

He chokes for a second and his eyes go wide. "What?"

"Yeah, I asked why you were there, and you said you couldn't live without me,"

Tony sighed loudly and buried his face in his hands. "You weren't supposed to remember that,"

"Need I remind you that you were under truth serum?"

"Gee. Wow - great. That makes it all the better Ziva,"

"So you meant it?"

He has no response.

"You beat yourself up over me then?" she questions

He doesn't answer her question but one from a previous conversation, "Yes, I'm jealous,"

She smiles, "Don't be. We're just friends. I promise,"

"Us or Mr. Miami?"

"Him," she promises again. Tony's heart jumps. Ziva didn't say anything about _him _just being a friend.

They sit there in silence for ten solid minutes, just lost in thought, staring at nothing really. Then she stands up and declares she must be going home and she teeters towards the door but nearly collapses she is so sleep-deprived.

He stands up and follows her, "Stay here. You'll crash, you can hardly see straight,"

She looks at him and he knows what she's thinking, "I have a guest bedroom across from mine,"

She materializes to the door like she can travel at the speed of light. She doesn't even bother actually getting in the bed. She just falls onto the bed face-first, and Tony's pretty sure she's asleep before actually landing on the bed.

Tony too, does the same. And when he wakes he finds Ziva at his kitchen table still half-asleep and the table set for breakfast and he sits down across from her.

And she smiles.

He knows then everything is going to work out just fine.

He just needs to give it some time.


End file.
